from my brain with bleach because somehow, they just kept getting worse.

But was I actually, physically fine? Uh-huh, sure, let’s go with that.

I let out a slow breath and took stock of my body, because if I’d hurt anything, hopping up was a terrible idea. “Yeah, I am.”

When I pried open my eyes, Aiden was crouched down, hands hanging in between his bent knees. His face was lined with concern, but he made no move to touch me, thank the Lord in heaven above.

If I was this much of a klutz when he breathed the same air as me, I’d probably spontaneously orgasm if we made skin-to-skin contact.

He nodded, rising slowly as I stood off the mats. Bracing his hands on his hips, his eyes turned toward his daughter, still swinging her legs up on that steel beam like she was at the freaking playground.

“Anya,” he said, all steady and calm, but I saw the tension in his jaw. “Time to get down.”

Her chin stuck out. “I’m not getting down for you.” She pointed at me. “I’m getting down because of her trick.”

“Fine,” Aiden said evenly.

“Can I jump off the top?”

“Absolutely not.”

She sighed dramatically, but reached her arms out. He moved underneath the beam and as I watched those arms extend toward her, I felt this dangerous swelling in my heart. Something I didn’t want to touch or poke at, but she hopped off the beam with such ease, such trust, that I almost had to look away.

Before he set her down, Aiden hugged Anya to his chest, her skinny arms wrapped around his neck, and I saw him release a quiet breath of relief.

Instead of watching the scene in front of me, I moved my gaze to the floor and smoothed a hand over my now-wrecked braid—a fitting symbol for my bruised pride.

“Sure you’re okay?” he asked.

I nodded.

“She’s not a good singer,” Anya chimed in. “She told me that.”

Aiden closed his eyes, while I … I tried not to stare awkwardly at his daughter because honestly, could this get worse?

“Anya,” he chided.

“I asked her.” She fiddled with the collar of Aiden’s shirt. “But I didn’t ask anything else.”

He gave me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry.” Aiden let out another breath. He glanced around the gym. “There’s a class at six, right?”

Again, I nodded, because this was the signature move in the Isabel Ward library of reactions to this particular man.

“You teaching?”

Don’t nod, don’t nod. My tongue unstuck from the roof of my mouth. “Not usually, but I’m covering for Kelly.”

Anya’s eyes widened. “Do you show people how to punch like my dad?”

Aiden’s mouth softened, but still … it wasn’t quite a smile.

Maybe this little girl with her strange questions and horrible love of climbing could help me ease my way into ‘normal Isabel’ around him.

I tilted my head. “Show me your strongest fist,” I told her.

She curled up her little fingers so tightly that the skin over her knuckles went white.

“Very good.” I showed her mine, then tapped my pointer and middle finger knuckles. “Always aim to hit right here, okay? And don’t tuck your thumb inside your other fingers.”

Anya rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows that. You’ll break your finger.”

I set my hands on my hips. “Maybe I should have you teach class.”

She giggled, glancing up at her dad with an expression so adoring, I could feel every ounce of my body melt like a stick of butter.

“Okay, gingersnap, you can play on your iPad while I get a little work done,” he said, and oh holy hell, he called her gingersnap. His eyes came back to rest on me, and I prayed to all the deities in all the religions in all the world that he couldn’t see what that did to me.

Honestly, it was like he was trying to be the most attractive man alive. And the fact that he didn’t realize he was made it even more attractive, which was an entirely separate issue. She motioned him down to her own height, and whispered something in his ear. If his face had been angled in my direction, I might have seen his lips curve in a smile, but instead, I simply saw the edge of his cheek move. But he nodded to whatever she said.

Anya gave me a shy smile. “You’re really pretty, Miss Isabel. I think you look like Wonder Woman.”

Instead of laughing her off, or dismissing it because Aiden was watching, I held my arms up in an X over my chest, and winked. When her face transformed into a wide smile, for the first time, I felt okay about an interaction with my new boss. Sort of.

Each embarrassing moment could get tucked away, in the corner of the box, held in place by each time I managed to take baby steps into something normal with him. I didn’t want to fawn over him, I didn’t want to study each nuance of each moment, because it felt wretched.

Anya ran off to his office, and to my surprise, Aiden didn’t follow.

“I owe you, Ward,” he said.

I blinked. “For what?”

Aiden jerked his chin toward the top of the steel beam.

My cheeks flushed hot. Honestly, with the flushing and the falling and the nodding. “No, it’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Yes,” he said evenly, “I do.”

There was nothing for me to say, because 1- I was afraid I’d keep arguing because no, I didn’t owe him anything for getting the small child off the very high beam, and 2- it seemed safer not to initiate a conversation with him.

Problematic, that.

“Anya,” he said, lifting his chin toward where his daughter had disappeared, “she’s done that her whole life.” At the lift in my eyebrows, he clarified. “The climbing. Doesn’t give me a heart attack like it used to, but every once in a while she goes a little too far.”

The way his voice softened when he spoke of his daughter had all sorts of melty, gooey things happening in my body. At first, all I could

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